


Rising Above It

by seki



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 19:10:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12372177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seki/pseuds/seki
Summary: The Assassin's Festival is a feast for all the senses, full of danger and excitement and wonder. And Ignis is willing to let Noctis hold onto those thrills for a little longer.





	Rising Above It

Noctis wakes up with a jolt. Beside him, Ignis comes awake all at once, daggers already forming in his hands as he sits up. "What is it? Is someone there?"

"It's fine," Noctis says, though adrenalin is still pumping through him. "Just a dream."

"Ah." The daggers disappear. "A bad one, I take it?"

"...no, not really? I mean, bits of it. But it was cool too."

Ignis shimmies back down beside him, under the covers. "Tell me."

So Noctis does; the Assassin's Creed festival, Lestallum turned into a playground over which Noctis roams and assassinates MTs. It had felt vivid and real to Noctis, heat and scent and the metallic tang of the Empire's blocking mechanism. More real than a dream should feel. Even the Leap of Faith had been tangible, the wind and the acceleration.

"Is that what woke you?" Ignis asks. "The sensation of falling?"

Noctis nods. "But only the fifth time or so? Earlier, I landed in a haycart and it was fine."

"How high was the leap?"

Noctis thinks. "Eighty feet? Maybe?"

"Then you can rest assured it was a dream, or no haycart would have prevented you from shattering a few bones."

Yeah, probably true. "You were there. You walked a tightrope, and said, uh, you can't spell funambulism without fun."

Ignis snorts. "How on earth do you know that word?"

"I asked _you_ that in the dream. And Prompto was just, you know, Prompto, making fun of me for hiding in trashcans, and Gladio was being a sleazebag and trying to pick up girls all the time."

"It all sounds rather exhausting, if you ask me." Ignis tugs the covers up a little further. "And we were all in cosplay?"

"Yeah. God, you looked hot in the robes, I'm surprised dream-me didn't drag you off and bang you silly."

Ignis smiles; there's enough light through the flimsy curtains for Noctis to see the curve of his mouth. "Well, there's no time like the present."

\--

Over breakfast they're informed that several of the other hunters have already left to go pursue the nearest mark. It only emerges in rainy weather, and right now it's threatening rain. Eager to claim the generous reward, they pack very hurriedly, board chocobos, and race down the river to slaughter the giant toad.

Returning, laden with toad skin and bottles of visceral bile to prove their victory, they're all a bit frazzled from the battle. Noctis's skin is crawling. Apparently toads like to attack with their tongues, and he feels like he's never gonna be clean again. Gladio still says he wants to camp, but the rest of them outvote him: two motel nights in a row it is.

The motel in Old Lestallum is decent enough; they eat at the diner, and then play cards and King's Knight. Noctis soon gets bored of it and goes down to the river to fish for a while. He doesn't even want to catch anything, it's just a nice way to clear his mind.

It's dark when he snaps out of his fishing-trance, and he hurries back to the motel.

Ignis is folding clothes when Noctis finds their room. "Good hunting?"

"Not even a minnow."

"I have a question for you." Ignis gestures to the bed, where some clothes are still laid out. "Do you recall owning these before?"

Noctis, intrigued, goes to look, and-- "No… holy shit, no."

"Are they what I think they are?"

"Looks like it." Noctis scratches at the back of his head. "I, um, think this might be one of Carbuncle's gifts."

"Your spirit animal gave you Assassin's robes. Cosplay ones, I add, with velcro and zips and plastic parts. You're certain you didn't somehow sneak these into our luggage before leaving Insomnia and I've merely been selectively blind until now?"

"Looks like it came right out of my dream." Noctis reaches out, strokes the leather of the belt at the waist. "He's done that before, one of my lures, but… yeah. It's really real."

"Impressive work for a non-corporeal guardian."

Noctis looks up at Ignis. "You should put this on."

"You think so?"

"I do. I mean, it looked _goooood_ on you, in my dream. Please?"

Ignis tips his head, looks at the costumes. "You'll have to help me. I can't fathom how one would even wear these."

In the end, Noctis has to pull up a picture on his phone so they can untangle which belts and scarves go where -- there are two costumes but all the parts are jumbled together, which complicates it a bit -- but it's _so_ worth it for the moment when Ignis pulls the collar over his head and the whole costume just coalesces into _Assassin_ on him.

"Wow."

"I feel ridiculous," Ignis says, looking down at himself. "It's so… revealing."

"You said that in my dream, too. New sensation?"

"Quite." Ignis shifts the strap down, over his nipple. "Well, do I pass muster?"

"You look amazing. Help me with this one?"

It's a lot faster with Ignis doing the buckling and assembling on him, checking the reference as he goes, and Noctis's costume has the traditional hood too. He pulls it up, and tugs Ignis over to stand side-by-side in the mirror.

"Hm."

"Come on, we look pretty cool." Noctis elbows Ignis. "Very mysterious. Very exotic."

"Your costume is rather less exposed."

"Yeah, but yours is sexier."

Ignis regards him in the mirror. "You find this sexy?"

"Damn right." Noctis turns, and pulls Ignis down into a kiss, to prove his point -- Ignis looks _hot_ , and maybe it's the skin on show or maybe it's the _assassin_ thing or maybe it's just that here's Ignis, willing to put on a cosplay just to make Noctis smile. Noctis slides his hand down to Ignis's, lifts it, kisses the base of Ignis's palm. "And no gloves, so I can do this."

"Perhaps there's something to be said for it after all."

"You know," Noctis says, kissing the inside of Ignis's wrist, "we could just imagine, you know, two assassins, assigned to the same target, working together, each noticing the other."

Ignis's eyes narrow.

"And then, maybe," Noctis says, making it up as he goes along, "they complete their mission, and they know they might never see each other again."

"And they give into their mutual passion, I suppose?"

"Something like that, yeah."

Ignis clears his throat. "I'm not very good at role-play, Noctis."

Oh. "Mm." Noctis kisses Ignis's wrist again. "Never mind, then--"

"But perhaps a change in scenery would help there." Ignis grabs Noctis's hand, suddenly, and starts pulling him. "With me, hurry."

"Where are we--"

"Where else?"

The window, Noctis realises, and then Ignis is outside, climbing upwards. "Are you serious?" 

But Ignis _is_ serious, apparently, and Noctis scrambles up after him, onto the roof.

It's a moonless night, but the area's floodlights and the neon MOTEL sign give them more than enough light to make their way to a spot between the pipes and vents where they can't be seen from the roof exit door. Ignis leans against one of the pipes, reaches for Noctis, and they kiss up there under the dimly glinting stars.

"Remind me," Ignis murmurs, his mouth shifting away, towards Noctis's ear, "how assassins address one another? Brother?"

Noctis nods, his hands fisted in the draperies at Ignis's waist.

"Then, brother, tell me you have felt the same passion as I? That you yearn for my touch?"

Oh my _god_. Ignis's voice is slow, rough, sounds like he's trying to put on an appropriate accent for this. "I have never yearned so much," Noctis manages, despite the distraction of Ignis's hands sliding down his back and Ignis's mouth on his neck. "Though we may never see one another again--"

"Let us make this a night worth remembering, then."

They kiss again, and Ignis gathers up the back of Noctis's robes with one hand, the other one holding tight on Noctis's waist. It's a warm night, but Noctis's skin goose-pimples under his touch all the same. Ignis's hand tugs down on Noctis's waistband, beneath the robes.

"In my pouch," Ignis murmurs.

Noctis blinks, opens the pouch on Ignis's waist belt. "Sneaky," he observes, pulling out the little sachet of lube. "Didn't see you grab that."

"While you were dressing." Ignis has pushed Noctis's trousers and boxers down a fair way; now he lets go, and Noctis shimmies his legs to let them fall down to his ankles. As he lifts one foot out of them, Ignis grabs at him, and it's unbalancing enough to make Noctis nearly fall over. He clutches at Ignis's cross-strap, and lets Ignis spin them in place so that Noctis is pressed against the pipes instead. They're just waist-height, so Noctis plants his hands on the top for support, as Ignis leans in for another kiss.

"You want me right here, then?"

"Turn around."

Noctis does, and the awkwardness he feels soon dissolves away as Ignis tugs aside fabric and Ignis's mouth presses hot and hard against the back of his neck, a shower of open-mouthed affection that has Noctis mumbling approval.

"One good thing about these robes," Ignis says, "is the ease of access."

Given that Noctis's robes are hitched up to his waist, his ass entirely exposed, Noctis has to agree. Ignis's hands caress him, spread him open, and then Ignis's slickened fingers are sliding into him, making Noctis gasp and arch his back.

"My brother," Ignis says, in that careful accent, again, dark and smoky-sounding, "you are a wonder beyond compare. Will you let me have you?"

"Gladly," Noctis creaks out, and after a few seconds of jangling noises and rustling fabric Ignis is pressing into him, hard, hot, _glorious_ , his teeth in Noctis's shoulder as he does so. When Ignis lifts his head, they're both trembling, breathing harshly. "Please," Noctis says, who can never stand the way Ignis always _stops_ just at this point. "Please, Ignis--"

" _Noct_." Ignis pulls out, slow and careful, until he's only barely within Noctis, and then _hard_ back in, ripping a deep grunt from Noctis's chest. "So, so beautiful." Another achingly gentle withdrawal, and then he pushes in again, a hot slide that only stops when he's fully inside. "I--"

Noctis _whines_ , and then Ignis seems to lose his words too, and his fingers are gripping hard on Noctis's hips as he rises and sinks inside Noctis, groaning and whispering wordlessly. It's _glorious_ , this angle, this friction, makes every nerve in Noctis's body sing. He wants Ignis to go faster, but then he never wants this to end either, and he manages to tilt his head back and far enough around for Ignis to claim his mouth for a messy, urgent kiss.

"Touch yourself, _brother_ ," Ignis begs, and Noctis bows his head forward again, takes one hand off the pipes, and fumbles to get it under his robes.

 _Fuck_. It's hot as hell having sex like this, Ignis's grunts and groans from behind, the feel of Ignis's cock inside him at an angle they don't usually try, the wind blowing across Noctis's face and keeping him aware of where they are, where they could be caught if someone investigates the roof. What if-- 

No. They're assassins, two men pushed together by the winds of fate. Taking their pleasure in the dark of the night, up here above the world. Untouchable. Above the rules. Oblivious to everything but their needs.

And to judge by the passion of his fellow assassin, their needs are mutual and intense and…

Ignis breathes out a shaky, barely-audible, "Noct--" and that pulls Noctis sharply back to himself, and to _Ignis_ losing his control behind him, and in the end that's even hotter than the fantasy was.

He comes onto the pipes, onto the hand he's braced himself with, a sharp thrilling orgasm that makes his toes clench and which shudders down him. Ignis makes deep, urgent, _pleased_ noises, behind him, slows down, caresses his waist and hips lovingly.

Noctis braces himself again, deliberate, pressing his ass backwards, and asks, "harder?"

Ignis shifts his hands, squeezes once, hard, on Noctis's hipbones and then does as he's asked, hard deep thrusts that makes Noctis's spine tingle and his legs ache from the tension. It's a thing Noctis loves; sometimes chasing his own orgasm is almost anxiety-inducing, but now, with it out of the way, he can focus fully on _Ignis_ taking pleasure in him.

"Love… you…"

Ignis comes, the way he often does, with his mouth buried in Noctis's hair and his fingers digging deep. They stay where they are, Noctis braced, Ignis's weight against and inside him, both of them breathing heavily.

"Ahhh." Noctis shakes his head, looks over his shoulder at Ignis. "You good there?"

"Blissful."

"C'mon, let's go back down before we're caught."

Ignis huffs out a resigned noise. "Very well."

They don't really _talk_ again until they're safely back inside. Noctis slips out of the costume as fast as he can, nips over to the bathroom in Ignis's robe to clean himself up a little -- it's been good not having to remember to buy condoms since they agreed to not use them, but the messiness _is_ a downside. By the time he returns, Ignis is out of his own costume, and they're folded up in the pile with the other clothes.

Noctis dims the lights, and they curl up together.

"Can't believe you dragged me up there," Noctis says, stifling a yawn. "Could've got in trouble."

"Ah, but as I understand it, everything is permitted, isn't that the motto?"

Noctis snorts, presses his head into Ignis's arm. "Only if nothing's real. And you'd better be real."

"I certainly think I am."

\--

Breakfast at the motel is outside. Prompto waves a lazy hello as they approach.

"Sleep okay?"

"Like a log," Ignis says, inspecting the short menu. "You?"

"You guys didn't hear?"

Noctis blinks. "Hear what?"

"Cranky heating or something. The pipes kept rattling." Prompto wrinkles his nose. "Gonna need some coffee."

Noctis keeps his face as politely clueless as he can. "Huh, must have just been your end of the motel. But yeah, coffee. Lots of it."

They're all onto their second cup and contemplating giving up on waiting and just ordering food before Gladio rocks up.

"Late," Ignis says, warningly.

"Couldn't sleep."

"You either? The pipes?"

Gladio makes a dismissive noise. "Weren't the pipes. I figured it was rats, went up to see if I could do a little extermination to shut 'em up. There were two people screwing on the roof."

"Whoa."

Noctis swallows down the guilt, as hard as he can. "Classy," he says, instead.

"Yeah, I just turned around and left them to it," Gladio says, and snags Noctis's half-full coffee cup and takes a gulp. "You guys must have heard it."

"No, can't say we did."

"This motel has perfectly good beds," Ignis says, sounding for all the world like he's _disappointed_ in these people on the roof. "And it's hardly expensive. Why on earth have sex on the roof?"

"Don't ask me, how would I know. They were wearing, like, cloaks, too."

"Even stranger."

"Maybe it's a cult," Prompto says, sounding _excited_. "Like, a sex cult."

Gladio grins, and waves the waiter over. "If we find one of those, tell me how I sign up."

\--

It's even more dazzling than in his dreams. Noctis has been on the edge of his seat, almost _literally_ , since they first spotted the posters on their way to Lestallum -- Ignis had nearly crashed the car, much to Prompto and Gladio's astonishment -- and when they exit the tunnel his eyes start to go moist with happiness.

The Assassin's Festival. It's _real_.

Ignis manages to manoeuvre the Regalia into the overcrowded car park, and they all get out. Prompto's camera is out already, documenting this crazy sight.

"Noct?" Ignis asks, leaning in close, tone uncertain. "Is... are we inside your dream?"

"I don't think so. But it looks just like it."

"Astonishing."

They wander a little, and bump quickly into Cindy and Holly. The girls give them a welcome spiel, which sounds unsettlingly like the speech Noctis remembers from his dream, and then tell them to get into their costumes.

Gladio holds the costume, frowns as he has done pretty much constantly since they got here.

"What's up, big guy?"

"I… you know the people on the roof of the motel, back in Old Lestallum? In the cloaks?" Gladio gestures to a passing cosplayer. "I swear to you, that's what those cloaks were."

Noctis tries to look skeptical. "Assassin's robes? Really?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure? You said you didn't really get a good look."

"No, but it's this, you know, getup. The white, the belts and scarves and stuff."

"Galahdian traditional dress, perhaps?" Ignis suggests, as if trying to be helpful.

"No, that's tailored. Definitely these costumes. Seriously."

"Seems like a strange coincidence. Where would they have gotten them from, last week? As I understand it, only the organisers had access to the stockpiles of costumes before the event began."

Gladio frowns. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

And then Noctis sees him glance at Cindy and Holly, and then -- and it's slow, like a dawning comprehension -- Gladio smiles, like he's figured out a secret.

"Yeah," he says again. "Only the organisers. Now I wish I'd stayed to watch a little longer."

Noctis looks away, before he starts laughing.

Lestallum glitters brightly, temptingly. And there's a free room in the Leville, and an excuse to wear these costumes, and Ignis is gonna walk the high-wire and it's gonna be _fun_.

"Right then," he says, and pulls his hood up. "Let's fly, my brothers."


End file.
